This is the first book (First year).
What if Voldemort had a son?
But what if this son was raised by a Muggle?
When Harry defeated the Dark Lord as a baby, a woman gave birth to a little boy, unfortunately she died giving birth.
Both parents being d...
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Harry, followed by Soren, walked through the door. This room (the last one, Soren hoped) was different from the others. On every side of the room, stairs were leading down to the area in the middle of the room. There in front of a mirror, a man was standing.
The boys went down the stairs but halfway down, Harry winced, touching his scar. Once they reached the ground, they recognised the man standing in front of them. It was Professor Quirrell.
"You?" Harry called out. The Professor turned to face them. "No. I-it can't be. Snape, h-he was the one-"
"Yes. He does seem the type, doesn't he? Next to him, who would suspect p-p-p-poor st-stuttering Professor Quirrell?" Quirrell said, with a mocking tone.
"But-but that day, during the Quidditch match, Snape tried to kill me." Harry was confused.
"No, dear boy. I tried to kill you." The Professor smiled evilly. "And trust me, if Snape's cloak hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have succeeded, even with Snape muttering his little counter curse."
"Snape was trying to save me?" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I knew you were a danger to me right from the off. Especially after Halloween." Quirrell continued.
"The troll!" Harry heard Soren whisper. "Then-then you let the troll in." Harry said out loud.
"Very good, Potter, yes. Snape, unfortunately, wasn't fooled. While everyone else was running about the dungeon, he went to the third floor to head me off. He, of course, never trusted me again. He rarely left me alone. But he doesn't understand. I'm never alone, never." Quirrell faced the mirror. Harry's scar burned again. "Now, what does this mirror do? I see what I desire. I see myself holding the stone. But how do I get it?"
"Use the boy." A voice said, coming out of nowhere. Soren looked around, trying to spot its source but couldn't find anything.
"Come here, Potter. Now!" Quirrell shouted. Harry started to approach the man, leaving Soren standing alone. "Oh! And who do we have here? Potter's friend. Soren Alston, I believe. You shouldn't have come here." Quirrell took out his wand, he was about to cast a spell on the boy but was stopped by the voice shouting;
"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH THIS BOY, YOU BLOODY IDIOT!" Everyone jumped back from the loudness, Quirrell was shaking from fear.
"I'm s-sorry. It's my f-fault. P-please, forgive me." The man pleaded, he was terrified. But the voice stayed quiet. Quirrell took a deep breath, came back to his senses, and faced Harry.
"Tell me... what do you see?" The man pointed at the mirror.
Harry was looking at the mirror. From where Soren stood, he could only see Harry's reflection. He had guessed that this mirror was the one Harry had told Soren about after the Christmas holidays.
Soren was extremely worried for Harry. Something dark was with them in the room, listening, waiting for the right moment to appear.
Professor Quirrell was losing his patience. "What is it? What do you see?"
Harry glanced at Soren then at Quirrell. "I-I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore. I've won the House Cup."
Soren could tell he wasn't telling the truth. But so could the voice;
"He lies."
"Tell the truth! What do you see?!" Quirrell shouted, angrily.
"Let me speak to him." The voice demanded.
"Master, you are not strong enough." Quirrell tried to persuade. But the voice wasn't having it.
"I have strength enough for this."
Professor Quirrell reached up and started to unwrap his turban, his back turned to the mirror. Harry took some steps back, closer to Soren. When Quirrell finished a face could be seen on the back of the man's head in the mirror.
"Harry Potter, we meet again." The owner of the voice said.
"Voldemort." Harry realised the identity of the face.
"Yes. Do you see what I've become? See what I must do to survive? Live off another, a mere parasite. Unicorn blood can sustain me, but it cannot give me a body of my own. But there is something that can, something that, conveniently enough, lies in your pocket."
Soren remembered the cloaked figure in the Forbidden Forest, he remembered the fear he had felt that night. Suddenly, he regretted not being with Draco now. He was facing what was hidden under the cloak, and it didn't help ease his fear but added to it.
All of a sudden, Harry started running, gripping Soren's arm to get him away too. "Run, Soren!"
"Stop them!" Voldemort said. Quirrell snapped his fingers, and a firewall appeared all around the room, blocking the only exit, and trapping the boys. "Don't be fools! Why suffer a horrific death when you can join me and live?"
"NEVER!" Harry screamed.
"Haha. Bravery. Your parents had it too. Tell me, Harry, would you like to see your mother and father again? Together, we can bring them back. All I ask for is something in return." Soren glanced at Harry's hand taking something out of his pocket. The Philosopher's Stone. "That's it, Harry. There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Together, we'll do extraordinary things. Just give me the stone!"
Soren was now the one gripping Harry's arm. He could feel him shaking at the mention of his parents. Soren was helpless, he didn't know what to do. It was a miracle he was still alive.
"Harry don't listen to him. He's the one who killed them in the first place. Do you really think he's going to grind them back?" Soren whispered to Harry, hoping his words would reach him. And they did.
"You liar!" Harry shouted.
"Kill him! But don't you dare touch the other boy!" Voldemort ordered his subject.
And just like he was ordered, Quirrell raised his arm and swung it in the air. Soren was pushed off the floor to the right and fell to the ground. The man soared into the air and flew toward Harry. Just as he was about to take the stone, Harry threw it at Soren who caught it and kept it close to his chest, hidden in his hands.
Quirrell grabbed hold of Harry's throat. They both fell on the steps of the staircase. The Professor was choking the boy.
"Harry!" Soren cried.
Harry strained and squeaked, gasping for air. He then put his hand on Quirrell's hand in an attempt to get rid of him. Out of nowhere, smoke furled from under his hand as Quirrell winced, then started screaming out of pain;
"What is this magic?" His hand was disintegrating.
"Fool! Get the stone! But don't hurt him!" Voldemort said.
Quirrell walked toward Soren, who tried to move back as far away and as fast as he could, but before the man could reach the boy, Harry stood up and ran to put his hands on Quirrell's face.
Quirrell cried in pain, and Voldemort winced. When the man looked back up at the boys, his face was horribly burned, and his body was disintegrating just like his hand a few minutes ago. The man disappeared, leaving only his clothes on the ground.
Harry walked toward Soren (who stood up from theground) with a small smile. But just as he was about to reach him, somethingcame through his body screaming, it then flew through Soren as well, anddisappeared, flying elsewhere. Both boys cried out in pain and fell to theground once again, unconscious.
